The stories behind the buildings, statues and other points of interest that make Manhattan fascinating.

Tuesday, August 23, 2016

The 1931 Horn & Hardart Cafeteria -- No. 170 West 72nd Street

Joseph Horn and Frank Hardart opened their first restaurant
in Philadelphia on December 22 1888.When “waiterless restaurants” began appeared overseas around the turn of
the century, Frank Hardart traveled to Europe to see them in action.Customers chose food items from glass-doored
compartments, inserted a coin and removed the food.The concept required fewer personnel and,
therefore, reduced prices.Diners
enjoyed quick service and inexpensive meals.

Horn & Hardart brought the concept to the United
States.The result was a sensation and
in 1912 they branched into New York City.Shop girls, office workers and laborers found they could stretch their
meager pay in clean, attractive surroundings where five cents would buy tasty,
freshly-made food.

The coin machines accepted only nickels and women "nickel throwers"
were on hand to make change. Because the coins dirtied the cashiers' hands,
they wore black uniforms.

Despite the low food prices, Horn & Hardart did not
scrimp on the interiors. Marble, white tile and shining chrome were kept
spotless and the cafeterias were often termed "classy."Joseph Horn's approach to the restaurant
business was simple. "There is no trick to selling a poor item
cheaply. The real trick is to sell a good item cheaply.”

Originally the firm used the Philadelphia architects
Stuckert & Sloan to design the cafeterias.But in 1916 it turned to local firm F. P. Platt & Co. for its New
York projects.Frederick Putnam Platt took took his brother, Charles Carsten Platt, into his architectural business
around 1919, creating F. P. Platt & Bro. The brothers would design
numerous automats for Horn & Hardart and as the Jazz Age engulfed Manhattan,
their designs turned to the sleek and modern Art Deco.

In 1930 Frederick co-wrote an article in the Architectural
Record entitled "Restaurants," which laid out the fundamentals of
designing a viable food selling establishment.Later that same year, in November, Walter J. M. Donovan leased the
properties at Nos. 170 and 172 West 72nd Street to the Horn & Hardart
Company.The lease, which ran from January 1, 1931 to
April 30, 1952 totaled $600,000.On
December 24, 1930 Poor’s Cumulative Service announced “In 1931 [Horn & Hardart]
will erect there a new cafeteria.”

Like the other Horn & Hardart buildings designed by F.
P. Platt & Brother, the 72nd Street cafeteria ignored the gloom
of the Great Depression and presented an exuberant symmetrical Art Deco façade.Cast stone and terra cotta combined in a modern
two-toned design of geometrical lines and stair-stepping motifs.

The original treatment of the side entrances is evident in this 1942 photograph. photo via LandmarkWest!

Indeed, if the Great Depression had any effect on the
automat business, it increased it. The quick and inexpensive food offered
by Horn & Hardart was helpful to patrons who needed to account for every
nickel.When the cafeteria opened in
1931 the West 72nd Street neighborhood had changed from one of
high-end private residences to apartment buildings and rooming houses.

The Horn & Hardart cafeteria quickly became a neighborhood gathering
place.Bachelors
found eating here convenient and economical.And apartment dwellers could sit for hours discussing illnesses,
weddings, neighborhood gossip, or the achievements of a son or grandson.The purchase of a cup of coffee and, perhaps,
a slice of pie, afforded the customer the right to settle in to read the
newspaper undisturbed.

Patrons of the 72nd Street automat enjoyed a sleek, clean dining room. photo from the John W. Romas Collection, via The Village Voice

The two-story cafeteria could accommodate at least 200
patrons; so, of course, things did not always go especially smoothly.Such was the case on the evening of August 9,
1936.

Claire and Elaine Luzanzie were sisters who lived together
in the Washington Towers Hotel at No. 2166 Broadway.Elaine, at 28 years old, was two years older
than her sister.That Sunday night they
walked to the Horn & Hardart on West 72nd Street for dinner.

Simultaneously, Mrs. Lucille Bradley entered the
cafeteria.She set her eyes on a
delectable-looking slice of roast beef.Unfortunately, Elaine Luzanzie spotted the same plate of beef.Mrs. Bradley (at 45 she was significantly
older), insisted she had gotten to the little glass door first.Elaine, with her nickel poised,
disagreed.The dispute got out of hand
and shocked patrons watched as Elaine landed a blow on Lucille Bradley’s lip.

The following day The New York Times ran a headline “Police
Fail to Quell Roast Beef Dispute,” and explained that none of the three women
had their anticipated dinners at Horn & Hardart that night.Instead they were given summonses for disorderly conduct.Although an ambulance was called and Lucille
was treated for a lacerated lip, both of the Luzanzie sisters denied they had
struck the woman.

The following day the women appeared before Magistrate
Murphy in the West Side Court.He
diplomatically found them guilty of disorderly conduct, but gave them suspended
sentences.

When the lease on the 72nd Street property
expired in 1952, it was renewed.After
two decades the cafeteria had become a neighborhood destination and a financial
success.And so it was crowded on the
muggy evening of June 19, 1957 as the city suffered through a heat wave.It was the eighth day in a row with
temperatures topping 85 degrees.

As the patrons chatted and dined at around 5:00 that evening,
the lights suddenly went out.The
prolonged heat indirectly caused a Consolidated Edison cable to burn out.A sub-headline in The Times the following day
read “Romance at Automat.”The cafeteria’s
managers quickly placed candles on the tables in the street level dining room
and closed off the mezzanine.The
newspaper opined “The customers seemed to enjoy the romantic touch.”

Neighbors were shocked and saddened when a sign appeared in
the window toward the end of summer in 1967.“To our patrons: This Automat will be closed the end of the business day
on Sept. 17, 1967.We thank you for your
patronage.”

The Times lamented “For 36 years the Automat on 72d Street
just east of Broadway had been the second home for the old people of the West
Side.Living alone on Social Security or
pensions, they spent long hours over coffee at the Horn & Hardart.”

On the evening of September 17 those “old people” gathered
for one last time.In what The Times
called “frail, uncertain voices,” they sang “Auld Lang Syne” and reminisced.The reporter noticed a hand-written sign on
one table which read “Shame, shame, shame.”

One patron, Ida Bess, told the journalist “I’ve come here
for 15 years every evening.Every
evening.”

She was interrupted by Rose Katz.“Fifteen years?Thirty years I’m eating here.If they go out of business, we need a nice
restaurant like Horn & Hardart with fresh vegetables.”

The 72nd Street residents did not, however, get
another nice restaurant quite like Horn & Hardart.The cafeteria building continued to house a
restaurant on the first floor, including a Gray’s Papaya in the 1990s; while over
the decades the upper floor was home to a business school, a “physical culture
establishment,” and a billiard hall.

As the 20th century became the 21st,
the entire building housed the Acker Merrall & Condit wine store.More recently it was take over as a Citibank
branch.Today the side entrances have been altered.But the
changes to F. P. Platt & Bro.’s sleek and jazzy design were sympathetically
executed; leaving us with a streamlined reminder of the Automat Age in New York.

3 comments:

Dating myself- again- in my youth (1960's) there was another Horn and Hardart on 3rd Avenue in the '40's. I was only taken there once, but was so taken with all the money I was given to make my selections that I remember it vividly